


Coat

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8343043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: New to pet grooming, Bilbo greets a new customer.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinisterbug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinisterbug/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for sinisterbug’s “Hobbit modern au prompt: Thorin is a really high maintenance, nervous, DOTING pet owner bringing his dog to the new groomer in town, Bilbo Baggins, after Thorin decided his precious pup got his paw pad nicked by the last one” prompt on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s been here for precisely one week, and in that time, he’s seen Lobelia on five different occasions, two of which were solely to pester him. Now he has her poodle’s white coat trimmed into the perfect curls, shining brightly in the midday sun, and she still twists her nose at him like he’s ruined her whole day. Bilbo sees her to the door out of a deeply ingrained sense of professional politeness, but the farewell smile he gives her is entirely forced. He’s not surprised that she doesn’t tip. He watches her strut out onto the street with her chin up high and can’t help but feel sorry for her poor dog.

He’s about to shut the door and get back inside—if only to tidy up his station and take off for his lunch break—when a man turns off the sidewalk towards the door. Normally, Bilbo would keep holding the door out to invite a new customer in. For this, he’s frozen for quite a different reason.

The man that marches towards Bilbo is quite possibly the most handsome man he’s ever seen. Or at least, the most adherent to Bilbo’s peculiar tastes. Bilbo finds himself rudely gawking at the stranger’s broad chest stretching out a black waistcoat, thick shoulders and towering biceps testing the limits of a crisp, tailor shirt, and a mess of dark, wavy hair that Bilbo automatically daydreams about running his fingers through. He’s so busy eyeing the strong cut of the stranger’s jaw and the depth of the stranger’s piercing eyes that he doesn’t notice the little pug trailing behind until both dog and owner are right at the door.

The man stops and gives Bilbo a look that makes Bilbo’s knees feel weak. He realizes belatedly that he’s blocking the entrance and hurriedly steps aside, blushing hotly and spluttering, “Sorry, sorry! Please, come on in!”

The man gives Bilbo a searching look and steps into the shop, his pug obediently following. The little grey puppy is exactingly tiny next to the customer’s massive physique, which doesn’t help matters at all—Bilbo’s always had a thing for _size_.

The receptionist is away from the desk, probably tending to other customers. There’s a steady thrum of clippers and electric shavers in the background, punctuated with the occasional bark, but the new customer’s dog is well behaved and quiet. Without anyone there to do a better job, Bilbo clears his throat and says, “Welcome to Hobbiton Groomers, Mister...?”

“Oakenshield,” the man grunts. He gives Bilbo another appraising once over and must decide Bilbo worthy, because then he thrusts out a hand and adds with a subtle upward quirk of his lips, “Call me Thorin.”

“Bilbo,” Bilbo returns, slipping his smaller fingers into Thorin’s. Thorin gives his palm a squeeze that sends Bilbo an abrupt rush of adrenaline—he can feel the sheer _strength_ in Thorin’s arms. But then two dogs start barking at once, and Thorin’s pug whines, and Thorin breaks the lingering touch of their hands to bend down and scoop his dog up. The pug’s squished face and big, beady eyes look twice as adorable when cradled in Thorin’s beefy grasp. Bilbo wonders vacantly if they have a fan lying about—it’s getting hot in here. Then he remembers himself and stutters, “Um, do you have an appointment...?”

“I do, with a Mr. Baggins.” Bilbo gives a little start, and Thorin adds with a sudden, stern frown, “I know I’m about an hour early, but I wanted to get a look about the place first. It’s nothing personal, but I’m quite particular of who I let near Arkenstone with clippers—our last groomer nicked his paw.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bilbo replies sincerely. He gives the pug a sympathetic look and reaches hesitantly out. When the pug—Arkenstone, apparently, which strikes Bilbo as a very odd name—gives no reaction, Bilbo dares to scratch lightly behind his ears. He makes a happy noise and squirms towards Bilbo, Thorin tightening his grip to accommodate. 

Then the rest of what Thorin said catches up with him, and he adds, “Oh! Dear me, sorry about that. I’m Mr. Baggins. But I’m afraid my break just started, and they’re rather meticulous with the schedule here. I was just about to go for lunch...” He should stop there, and would, but Thorin is now looking at where Bilbo’s petting Arkenstone and smiling, and that smile is incredibly rewarding—it looks like something hard-earned and meaningful. Bilbo’s not sure he can turn this man away, and after all, he has been telling himself lately that he must get out more. He started the first steps with this—moving here to a new town, getting a new job... it might be time for a new man. Despite his humble routes, he often secretly enjoys trying things that are new.

So he takes the leap, drums up all his courage, and says, “You’re welcome to come, if you like.” But he’s still somewhat shy and proper at heart, and quickly amends, “To talk about your dog, of course.”

Thorin’s grin twists into something of a smirk. Bilbo has the horrible feeling Thorin’s seeing right through him, but it’s worth it when Thorin takes a final sweep of Bilbo’s smaller frame and answers, “I could go for that.”

Bilbo’s stomach does a childish flip. Thorin shifts his pug into one arm and reaches out with the other to open the door like a suave, particularly hunky gentleman. Bilbo steps outside without a second thought to his station, and the two of them walk off into the day.


End file.
